


Sheep Meadow (Love is Patient)

by midnightcas



Series: Corinthians 13:4 [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Police, Because you've all convinced me, Character Development, Deputy Derek, Deputy Stiles Stilinski, Derek Has Issues, Derek Has a Crush on Stiles, Derek and Stiles are partners, Getting Together, I made my own timeline, M/M, Minor Character Death, POV Derek, Past Heather/Stiles Stilinski, Sheriff Stilinski's Name is John, Stiles Has a Crush on Derek, Stiles has a kid, Theres a cluster fuck of death in here for a moment, happy endings bc life is sad enough, historical fiction - Freeform, ill add more tags when im not tired and its not 4am, kind of, multiple - Freeform, nypd, sterek, the Hales love Stiles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-25
Updated: 2016-07-25
Packaged: 2018-07-26 15:52:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7580530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/midnightcas/pseuds/midnightcas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek Hale never thought that he’d be an officer for the NYPD. Ever. He also never thought that he would ever be paired together with someone like Stiles Stilinski. He never actually thought that people like Stiles Stilinski even existed in real life.</p><p>"I’m trying to apologize.”<br/>The transfixed anger and annoyance remained in place for a few moments longer before Stiles’ whole body deflated with a heavy sigh, “Yeah, I know.” It sounded a bit petulant, but Derek let it go.<br/>“Okay? I’m sorry for being--”<br/>“A dick?”<br/>Derek fixed him with a look, “Evasive,” he corrected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sheep Meadow (Love is Patient)

**Author's Note:**

> I'm just putting this up now so I feel accomplished. The summary, the title and the notes will be edited shortly after I take a nap. I hope you enjoy the writing and that you come back when I can explain the entire purpose of this fic and it's eventual series.

 

Derek Hale never thought that he’d be an officer of the NYPD. Ever.

He started off his young years of adolescents running from the cops and tagging buildings. He had been picked up for everything from petty theft to trespassing, truancy to lautering, possession of alcohol, battery and assault. You get the picture. It had all started after his parents had been murdered in cold blood. By their friends no less. And he knew it was no excuse to dive off the deep end, but he was _twelve_. He had been shipped across the country to live with his Uncle Peter that he only saw during the holidays and had been set free in the Capital of the World.

It was when he was threatened to be separated from a nineteen year old Laura and a twelve year old Cora, that he met Sergeant Stilinski. The man had been a literal angel on earth for Derek. He had sat him down, showed him his gun and his badge and then showed him the Brooklyn Detention Center. He had given him a choice: a stellar recommendation letter to the academy or a stellar cell in Andrew Glover. He had been sixteen at the time and it hadn’t been a hard choice.

After getting his G.E.D and an associates degree at a local community college, he had turned his whole life around and graduated at the top of his class at the academy. He was sworn into the force a total of three years later. Two years after that, he had met Stiles.

At the time he had been a red faced and teary eyed high school kid at his mother’s funeral. Derek had given his condolences to John Stilinski and his son, shook their hands and then stood in the back for the service. He figured that he was just one of many officers that had stopped by to pay his respects to the Sergeant, now Lieutenant, for the loss of his wife. But apparently he had made an impression.

The next week, a tin can of cookies had been set on his desk with a messy and sincere handwritten ‘Thank You’ note. He was one of three, the other two being Deputy Jordan Parrish and Detective Tara Graeme, to receive one. When he stopped by John’s office to thank him, the man had only given him a tight smile and invited him over for dinner the next Friday.

It was there that he met Heather, Stiles’ highschool sweetheart. The girl was as sweet as they come and she and Stiles were perfect for each other. Even a complete stranger (Derek) could see it.

A year later Stilinski came into the station with a flutter of stress and a face of mixed emotions. Heather was pregnant. They both wanted to keep the baby, but they were so young with a lot of life ahead of them. Derek could tell that John wanted to be excited by the news, but he probably felt that he should play the chastising father role in all of this, so Derek told him as much. That got him a clap on the back and a watery smile full of thanks.

The next time he saw Stiles was a year after that. At Heather’s funeral. Stiles stood at the back of the line, a three month old little girl, he would later learn was named Spencer, in his arms. He gave his condolences, hugged both men and sat in the back for the service.

 

Four long years of holidays, cookouts and dinners with the Stilinski’s, mostly John and Spencer, as Stiles was away at college, passed quickly when said college student came barreling into the station looking for he and Parrish one day. He had cornered Derek in the bathroom rambling on and on about needing a recommendation letter for the Academy and he couldn’t really ask his Dad to do it and all the other higher ups were kind of dicks and the Chief already wrote one and...Derek had snapped at him, agreeing if it was only to shut him up.

Even though he had known Stilinski for closer to eleven years, he was hardly around him. Sure he had sat through dinners with him and gone to his graduation party and picked him from the occasional party or two to avoid a grumpy John the next day, he had never really formed that bond with him that Tara and Parish had. The four of them, now five with Spencer, were a family. And Derek...Derek was just there. A family friend maybe. But he never had gotten accustomed to Stiles’ constant rambling and foot in mouth ways. Not that it really bothered him, he had at least learned not to be offended by Stiles anymore. Thier first few encounters had been...interesting (with a laughing Parish doubled over in the background). They had their share of arguments and bickerings over dinner, but their relationship wasn’t _bad_. It wasn’t really existent either.

So basically, Derek was fucked and had no idea what to write for this kid’s recommendation letter. His eventual struggles had been worth it though, when John had swooped up to Derek’s desk, sporting the biggest grin he had seen on the man since his wife had passed, just to thank him repeatedly. A year later Stiles was sworn into the force.

 

Three months after that, John Stilinski had a heart attack. Derek didn’t remember much about that day. Just the fact that he had gotten to the hospital at the early hours of the morning to see a dejected Stiles sitting with his head in his hands, red faced and teary eyed. He hadn’t even hesitated a moment before dragging the younger man into a hug and crying right along with him.

“You can go talk to him,” Stiles had rasped out. “Tara and Jordan were already here. He was waiting for you.”

Shocked silent at the news and the honor, he had only nodded and stepped inside the room.

“Derek,” the man greeted weakly.

It took everything in him not to fall to his knees and openly weep. How could life be so cruel as to take another parent from him? Hadn’t it taken enough? Why? Why did it have to take this man? A man so full of good and love? A man that had taken a liar, a criminal, a thief and written him a recommendation letter so perfect that he hadn’t even needed two others? A man that had quite literally changed his life? A man with a son? A granddaughter? Why couldn’t it take him instead?

He must have been standing there for a while because John waved him over carefully. His eyes that had always been so full of life were now dulled and were sunken, making them look twice the size they usually were. His tan skin was nearly translucent. He looked to have lost 30 pounds that day, alone.

“Sir,” he answered quietly.

“Derek. I am so proud of you, Son. You know that?”

He clasped the man’s shaky hand in his own and nodded, no longer hiding the stream of tears cascading down his face, “I know.”

“Good.”  
  
“You’re...thank you. For everything. Thank you.”

“Derek. I love you. You’re like a son to me, Derek. And I wouldn’t ask this of you if...if you weren’t my family.”

Derek felt his throat contracting around itself. His whole face was burning.

“A-anything. I would do anything for you.”  
  
“Stiles. I need you to look out for Stiles.”  
  
“Of course,” he choked out.  
  
“I know...I know you two don’t get along all the time. But...but you’re the only one I trust to keep him safe for me.”

“Sir...”

“At work, but also after that. He’s...this is going to kill him. I need to know he’ll be okay. I need to know you two will look out for each other.”

He only nodded his head more times than necessary and whispered back a ‘yes of course, of course I will’ and then an ‘I love you too.’

John had nodded at him. And like a man that had just accomplished his last task, smiled. Then he asked for his son.

Derek did as he was told and sent the younger man in. A few minutes later he heard a broken sob and knew he had passed. In a flurry of immediate motion, Laura and Cora were walking into the waiting room as were another man and woman, and behind them, Tara and Parish. The man that Derek didn’t recognize went straight for the room. In his foggy haze of disbelief, Derek had the urge to block his way, to let Stiles have his last moments with his father. But Laura was wrapping her arms around him and Cora was looking on with concern. He let himself be held and fussed over, having a sudden longing for his own parents and their strong arms. But that brought another string of emotions at the thought that Stiles had lost both of his parents now too. He watched, detached, as the man and woman gently dragged Stiles from the room and sat him in a chair, murmuring and talking to him in low voices, carefully petting him as if making sure he was still all there himself.

 

A week later he attended John Stilinski’s funeral. This time, he sat in the front for the service.

 

  
Derek Hale never thought that he’d be an officer for the NYPD. Ever. He also never thought that he would ever be paired together with someone like Stiles Stilinski. He never actually thought that people like Stiles Stilinski even existed in real life.

After a month of leave, Stiles had come back to the force, full swing. And Derek had a new partner.

Spencer had just started kindergarten, which apparently was perfect for the shift they had just started on. Scott and Allison, Stiles’ best friends who had been the ones rushing the room _that_ night, had volunteered to put her on the bus and Stiles would get off just in time to pick her up. She was Stiles’ world. And why shouldn’t she be? She was the only person that he had left when it came down to family and blood.

Despite their history, the two didn’t really have any kind of relationship to go off of. They trusted each other. But that was about it. A lot of their patrolling was Stiles rambling on and on and Derek snapping at him to shut up and pay attention. They bickered a lot. About nothing. About everything. Parrish threatened to send them to couples counseling and the Chief threatened to disband them. A few times. He, of course, hadn’t wanted to. Solely on the fact that it had been on of Stilinski’s last wishes that they remain as partners. But they both knew he could separate them...and would if need be.

Eventually they got it. They became familiar with each other. Stiles learned how Derek liked his coffee and Derek learned what Game of Thrones was. They occasionally ate dinner together--it turned out Stiles was an a-mazing cook--and caught whatever game was on--Stiles would never miss a Mets game and Derek rarely missed a Giants game when football season came around. Tara and Parish would join them sometimes too, and would always be around for the holidays. Derek even watched Spencer on occasion. He had even been named her favorite. Derek tried not to preen too much at the thought of it, but he couldn’t help it.

After two years of figuring each other out as partners, they had tumbled into friendship. A close one. He had become Derek’s unmistakable best friend. Despite his thirty years of age, Derek had never actually had a best friend. Sure he had friends. He’d been nearly inseparable with Isaac and Erica back in California, but they had been friends long before Derek had met either of them. And then there had been Boyd, but his normally stoic and indifferent friend had become infatuated with Erica the moment he met her. As far as he knew, they were still together.

But now there was Stiles. He was the first one he thought to call when anything happened and apparently it was the same for him, if the amount of late night phone calls of ridiculous ramblings had anything to say for it. He had been to dinners with his family and attended Laura’s daughters’ birthdays, spent Christmas and some Thanksgiving’s with them and even crashed at Derek’s apartment more times than he could count. Laura and Cora had inserted themselves into Stiles’ life too. Taking Spencer with Sami and Andrea on play dates and day trips. Spencer had even called them both Aunts and Laura’s children cousins. Stiles had been thrilled (Derek still hadn’t graduated to the title of Uncle despite his constant efforts. Spencer was very adamant about calling him ‘Der’ just like Stiles did.). They still fought and bickered and rolled their eyes at each other and snarked. But that was just who they were.

Stiles shared memories of his father with him and Derek shared his own of John as well.  
Stiles had cried to him and Derek had held him.  
And once a year on the anniversary of his parents’ death, the roles would be reversed.  
They each had their bad days and took turns being each other’s rock to lean on.  
And other days they would completely destroy each other.

 

It wasn’t until the anniversary of John’s death that he realized his feelings ran deeper than just friends. He had woken up in Stiles’ bed with Spender curled in between them. It wasn’t an unnatural occurrence, waking up on the other side of Stiles’ bed with the young girl smooshed in the middle. But this time...for whatever reason, this time it held some weight. It had all come crashing down on him in a matter of seconds. Derek was _happy_ with Stiles. The man had wormed his way into his life and under his skin for years now. Being with Stiles was as easy as breathing. They rarely went a full 24 hours without some form of contact and when they did Derek could feel the weight of the emptiness inside him. Stiles was apart of him now. Both he and Spencer had cemented a permanent place in his heart. He never wanted to lose them. He wanted to wake up like this every morning. Stiles sprawled out next to him, holding each other close. Spencer waking them up earlier than needed and Derek having to drag Stiles out of bed so he could make breakfast for them. He wanted Saturday morning cartoons and kisses goodbye before work. And he wanted all of that with Stiles.

 

And apparently he was the last person to know _of_ these feelings.

 

It was a cool October day and the whole crew was at Laura’s house for a thrown together family dinner. It was last minute so it was only Derek, Laura, her kids, Cora, Stiles and Spencer. The Stilinski’s, of course, showed up later than everyone else. But Laura had apparently taken that into consideration. Derek had stopped being surprised by his sister’s eerie foresight a long time ago.

“Derek!” Spencer cried running full force into the man’s legs, nearly toppling him over and spilling the two glasses of red wine he had in his hands. Stiles smiled at him kindly and took one of the glasses for himself before Derek ducked down to give her a one armed hug.

“Hey!”

“I missed you!”

Derek smiled, “We had a sleepover two days ago.”

She puffed out her bottom lip, “But you didn’t even stay for breakfast!”

“I know. Next time, I promise I’ll make you my special omelet.”  
  
“With extra cheese?”  
  
“With extra cheese.”

“Awesome!”

“Spence,” Laura interrupted, “Andrea and Sam just got a new makeup set. If it’s okay with your Dad, I think they were waiting for you to start playing with it.”

Spencer spun so quickly that Derek was sure she’d complain about the whiplash later.

“Daddy, can I please?”

“Of course, baby. Just make sure you help clean up.”  
  
“Duh, Dad,” she huffed as she ran up the stairs.

Cora smiled after her and gave Stiles a hello hug in which he returned sweetly. He then reached around Laura to grab the bowl of potatoes waiting to be mashed as she stirred the gravy. And instead of just a murmured hello between the two, Laura kissed him on the cheek and went right on back to stirring.

Derek couldn’t help but stare. Stiles had just taken it in stride and called over to Cora, asking how her Senior Dissertation was going. Since when...since when was Stiles greeted like this? Like...like family? Cora only ever engaged in physical contact when forced and Laura was more suspicious of everyone than not. He must have been staring for a while because Laura had to call his name twice to ask for help with flipping the steaks.

While everything finished cooking, Derek found himself in front of the TV, watching the Falcons play the Packers. Needless to say, his mind was elsewhere.

It had only been two days since he had woken to the soft image of Stiles and Spencer sharing a bed with him and had run out of the house like a bat out of hell. And now all of this...the familiarity between Stiles and his sisters, that he was just apparently realizing now. The casual touches like they had been doing it for their whole lives. Sure, Derek had realized just how big a part of his life Stiles had taken over. But this...it was too much. What if...what if Stiles didn’t feel the same way? What if Derek had told him that morning only to have made a complete ass out of himself? Yeah, he and Stiles were close. Inseparably close. But what if...this was kind of a big, no huge, thing. What if...what if this destroyed them? He had feelings for Stiles. That much he had established. But was he ready to take the chance that Stiles would remove himself completely from his life if the feelings weren’t returned? And even if they were, what’s to say that they wouldn’t mess it all up down the road and then never speak to each other again? He couldn’t do that to himself. He couldn’t do that to Laura or Cora. They loved him, it was plain to see. Stiles had been adopted into their broken little family as Derek had been adopted into the Stilinski’s years before. Derek wouldn’t be the one to ruin that. No matter how deep these feelings ran. No matter--

He was shaken out of his thoughts when the couch dipped beside him and a knee knocked into his. He looked up to see Stiles smiling over at him.

“The Packers, Der? Really?” He snorted.

Derek’s eyes immediately fell to his soft mouth that was grinning. Grinning at _him_. He dragged his eyes up to warm amber ones that were dancing with mischief and awaiting an answer. An answer? Had he been asked a question? All he could focus on was the solid presence of a body next to him and whiskey colored orbs staring up at him. Stiles. He was beautiful. Dammit. What would it take for him to lean in the couple of inches between them and take his plush mouth in a kiss? Probably nothing. Maybe an actual pair of balls but--no. No. No Derek. You can’t ruin it all now. Not everything that’s been built over all of these years. No.

“I’m gonna go check on the girls,” he said, shooting to his feet suddenly.

He only caught a glimpse of Stiles’ confused yet amused face before fleeing. And no one’s smug face should be that attractive. No one should make Derek actually forget his words or forget how to walk or think or _breathe._

They sat down for dinner only a few minutes later. And just like every time, Stiles sat on the left of Derek and _God_ \--he had forgotten.

He had _forgotten_ how close Stiles always sat to him. Not like it ever mattered. Or that he ever cared. Until now of course. _Now_ , he noticed. _Now_ , he wanted to close the small gap between them, throw his arm around Stiles’ broad shoulders and pull his body flush against his own.  
He found himself flinching away from the other man’s every touch, even if it _was_ just a brushing of their hands when Derek passed him something from across the table.

He had _forgotten_ how mesmerizing his laugh was and how he always threw his head back in joy, revealing the pale stretch of skin that was his neck. The pale stretch of skin that was his neck that was practically _begging_ Derek to mark it with light careful bruises and wet sloppy kisses.

He had _forgotten..._ well damn. He had forgotten that he was a functioning adult and usually contributed a lot more to the conversations going on around him.

He was being quiet, that he knew. But to be fair, there was a lot going on in his head at the moment. However, his crisis...could he maybe call it a midlife one? Maybe. Hopefully not quite “mid”, he hoped to live to something that was closer to 100 than 60...was diverted when Stiles reached across the table to cut Spencer’s piece of steak into smaller pieces for her. He watched fondly as Spencer explained to Stiles how to apply the mascara smoothly like Aunt Cora had shown them while Stiles nodded every few seconds, treating this information very vitally like there might be a quiz later. And for all he knew, it was possible there would be. Stiles’ forearms flexed slightly, now visible from his pushed up sleeves from the henley he was wearing, and Derek was positive that the shirt had probably been his at one point in time. He followed Stiles’ hands back to his own plate and apparently it was creepy enough for Stile to pause. When he finally flickered his eyes up, he saw Stiles looking at him mockingly with raised eyebrows.

“Do you want me to cut yours up too, Der?”

He forced an eyeroll, ignoring the blush that crept over his face as well as Laura’s curious glances she was throwing his way.

Surprisingly, Sami made it through half of dinner before she started wailing. Spencer and Andrea shared in an eyeroll before shoveling spoonfuls of mashed potatoes in their mouths ins some estranged competition they had telepathically come up with. Derek was convinced they were twins separated at birth. Derek was also convinced that whoever dropped the infamous “terrible two’s” line had never met a three year old. Between watching the girls grow up, three had been the worst age for all of them. He remembers watching Andrea throw a temper tantrum in the supermarket and Laura abandoning her half filled cart of the week’s food to flee the grocery store. It seemed the same would go for Sami as well.

After getting Sam calmed down, the girls all excused themselves from the table in very posh accents--it looked like six and seven would be pretty interesting ages too--and asked if they could color. They dragged a still whimpering Sam along with them, promising Mickey Mouse Club House and The Little Einsteins if she was good.

“Looks like I won’t be leaving anytime soon then,” Stiles laughed, giving Derek a cheeky smile.

His only response to that was a grunt of affirmation.

Stiles paused for a moment before slowly getting up and helping Laura clear the dishes from the table. When Stiles returned, he reached around Derek to get his place instead of just reaching in front of him. And if Derek hadn’t been so sure, he would have sworn his partner was doing it on purpose. The--

He jumped at the strong fingers that wrapped around the base of his neck.

“Everything okay, Der?” Came Stiles’ low voice from behind him.

He nodded slowly, “Fine.”

After a moment of hesitation Stiles retracted his fingers and removed his plate from in front of him, sparing him a wounded kind of glance before disappearing into the kitchen. Laura had watched it unfold from the other side of the room and as hard as he tried to ignore her sharp gaze, he eventually let his own eyes float up to meet hers. She only sighed before taking the seat next to him and wrapping her soft hands around both of his rough ones.

“You finally figured it out then, huh?”

“Figured what out?”

She gave him a long suffering look and turned her head towards the kitchen.

“You’re being unfair to him.”

“What are you talking about, Lo?” He grumbled, matching her long suffering look with his own long suffering sigh.

“Derek, it’s not his fault that you’re head over heals in love with him and don’t know what to do about it.”  
  
He felt like a 90’s cartoon with how quickly his face turned a violent shade of red.

“I...I don’t--”

Cora swooped in the room gracefully with a wet cloth, presumably to wipe the table down with, and stopped in her tracks at the scene in front of her.

She merely raised an eyebrow before Laura announced almost smugly, “He figured it out.”

Cora let out a breath and rolled her eyes.

“What? You guys...you can’t just keep _saying_ that Laura. How did you guys even...I didn’t even know until...”  
  
“Please Derek. We knew the moment you brought him to my house for dinner two _years_ ago,” Cora snorted.

“What?!”

“Der, you don’t really...go out of your way to get to know people. And I know...I know John asked you to keep an eye on him, but we could tell that it was deeper than just that. It was almost...God Cora, help me out here.”

“As gooey as it is,” she flicked her hair behind her shoulder, “You look at him different. Like he’s your whole damn world, Derek. Like he hung the moon or some shit.”

In shame or shock or something Derek couldn’t identify, he looked down at the table, ignoring Cora’s low whistle and “You got it bad, big brother” taunt and the gentle squeeze of Laura’s hands around his own.

And that, of course was when Stiles sauntered in.

“Cora, I need that towel. What are you--,” he stopped at the sight of the trio, “Oh. Shit,” he whispered and if Derek hadn’t looked up, he would have missed the almost painful expression that crossed his features before his obvious discomfort took its place. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to--I’ll wait...take your time obviously. I’ll be in the living room...yeah. Sorry.”

He wordlessly watched his retreating figure and only turned back to his sisters when he heard a chorus of “Uncle Stiles!” and “Daddy!”.

“Look Derek, I think you should go for it. You deserve to be happy and I think he feels the same wa--”  
  
“I don’t...I don’t want to mess this up.”

“You won’t mess it up, Derek. He’s not exactly subtle and he--”

“I can’t _lose him_ , Laura.”

He must have said it in such a desperate and broken way or it must have been the earnest look in his eyes or _something_ because both of them exchanged solemn looks and only nodded at him.

“Okay,” Laura said in a quiet voice as she let go of his hands, “okay. But you should at least apologize. You’re...if you’re so concerned about losing him, pushing him away to spare your feelings isn’t exactly the best way to keep him around.”

Cora snorted, “Thank you Dr. Phil.”  
  
Laura only glared at her younger sister in response.

“We’ll do the dishes. Go talk to him.”

Derek felt cool dread fill his stomach but he nodded and sought out two beers from the fridge before seeking out one Stiles.

He found him sprawled out on the ground, coloring a picture of a group of animals with party hats on in sparkling crayons, with an amused and chatting Sam on his lap. Spencer was hanging on his shoulders while Andrea laid upside down on the couch, completely sucked into whatever disney show was playing on the television. Stiles looked up when Derek entered the room and caught his eyes carefully. He looked like he was ready to avert his gaze before Derek held up the two beers in his one hand as an offering. A peace offering. Yeah, he could do that. Hell, they _have_ done that. Many times.

Without changing his expression, he placed Sami down handing her the crayon he had been using and slid a clingy Spencer off of him.

“Daaaad.”  
  
“I have to talk to Der for a minute, okay?”

She looked between the two for a second and nodded. She had been around for enough of their blow out fights with them yelling and screaming to know tension between them when she saw it.

Stiles eventually followed Derek out onto the front porch and silently stood next to him until Derek offered him the beer. He wordlessly accepted it and took a sip.

“Look. I’m sorry. There’s just a lot going on in my head right now--”

“Clearly,” Stiles snorted taking another long drink.

“Don’t,” Derek warned, not wanting this to turn into an argument. He knew. Damn it he _knew_ how much it bothered Stiles to be shut out. And seeing him take solace in his sisters after avoiding him all day must have really been a slap in the face, “I’m trying to apologize.”

The transfixed anger and annoyance remained in place for a few moments longer before Stiles’ whole body deflated with a heavy sigh, “Yeah, I know.” It sounded a bit petulant, but Derek let it slide.

“Okay? I’m sorry for being--”  
  
“A dick?”

Derek fixed him with a look, “ _Evasive_ ,” he corrected, “there’s just...a lot.”

“And you couldn’t bring it to me?”

“...no.”

There was a wounded silence that made Derek physically wince, and then there was a, “Look, if you feel like you can't talk to me about stuff anymore then maybe we should--”

“That’s not it,” Derek blurted, “Stiles. Please. You _know_ that’s not it.”

“Then what _is_ it, Derek? What could be making you so goddamned _difficult_ that you can’t even talk to _me_ about it?”

Oh yes, ‘difficult’. He had almost forgotten Stiles’ favorite word in describing him when he was in one of his moods or they were in one of their fights. And to be fair, Derek had a favorite word when it came to Stiles too; _insufferable_.

He sighed, “Just...just trust me Stiles. Please. It’s not you. It’s...it’s just all up in my head. I talked to Laura about it and it’s fine...please.”

There was a long pause. And finally Stiles breathed out a, “Damn it, Derek.”

It sounded so defeated that he couldn’t help but feel guilty. He sighed and pulled Stiles into himself, rubbing his arm steadily and pressing a kiss to his temple.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled against it.

He felt Stiles nod against him before the younger man caught his hand and squeezed it in reassurance, announcing that he had to get home soon to put Spencer to bed. She had a play date with Max and Victoria, Scott and Allison’s twins, tomorrow and he had to drop her off before their shift started.

He followed him inside and helped him get Spencer ready to go. He ignored the curious looks from both of his sisters and walked Stiles to the door, Spencer tucked in his arms.

“Thanks for dinner, Lo,” Stiles called.

“Oh please.”

He chuckled, “The Giants are playing sometime next week if You, David and the girls wanted to come over to the apartment. I don’t know about cooking, but pizza and wings are guaranteed.”

“Only if you order from Frank’s.”

Spencer snorted from the curled up position in Stiles’ arms, “Of course Aunt Laura. Where else would we order pizza from?”

The comment startled a laugh out of everyone, even Derek.

“Didn’t get hit with that invite, Stilinski,” Cora smiled.

“Yeah, I’ll hit you with that invite, alright,” he smiled back.

And even though Stiles was only four years younger than Derek and closer to thirty than twenty, he still looked young enough to get away with talking that way, “of course you’re invited. And uh,” he turned to Derek and nudged him with his shoulder, “I guess it’d be okay if you wanted to swing by too?”

The glint in his eye was full of mischief and his mouth was pressed together tightly as if trying not to reveal a smile.

Derek shrugged, “Yeah, I mean, I guess I could drop by,” he drawled, playing along, “if you insist.”

“Oh, do _I ever_ , Officer Hale.”

He let out a chuckled, “Alright. You have a nice evening now, Mr. Stilinski.”

He watched Stiles trot down the stairs and slide into his stupid old jeep that he’s had since high school, before turning around to Laura and Cora watching him with twin knowing looks.

“Shut up,” he grumbled running a hand down his face before heading to join his nieces in the living room to pointedly avoid all adult conversation for the rest of the night.

 

That had been then end of that. His feelings for Stiles hadn’t been brought up again since. Well at least not by either of his sisters. A constant battle waged everyday. And he expected it to always be like this until, he supposed, he got used to it. He hadn’t expected, however, for everything to come to a head one day in late July the following year. At work, none the less.

 

They had been put on patrol in Columbus Circle due to the growing number of terrorist attacks happening elsewhere in the world. They had done their round and had swapped out with Parish and Haigh not ten minutes ago to get out of the heat for a while and to regroup. So far the day was pretty slow. The amount of tourists had even been at a minimum, and because of the heat no one stayed in the vicinity too long.

Derek and Stiles were sitting in the van now, the big sliding door left open to let in whatever breeze possible as they chatted about what to do for lunch.

“The sushi burrito Der. Did you read the link I sent you last night?”

“The Buzzfeed one?” he snorted, “Yes. I did. But you always forget that I don’t like sushi.”  
  
“Aw, shit. Damn it! That must be it. Your one flaw. Ugh. Come _on_ .”  
  
Derek just shook his head. A child. His partner was a child.

“I _could_ go for a Sigmund’s pretzel,” he allowed.

“Really? Yes! You spoil me. You’re the best! I’ll order it now.”  
  
And that moment, the one where Stiles reached for his phone, was the moment Derek’s world turned around so fast. At the same time Stiles grabbed his phone, the van door slammed shut and a loud voice yelled, “BOMB!”

A cool feeling ran down Derek’s front as he met Stiles’ frantic eyes.

“D-drive! Get it away from here!”

In a panic, he turned the keys in the ignition and drove straight into Central Park, not paying any regards to the paved roads ahead of them.

“Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit, holy shit,” he eventually pulled himself out of his own head to hear Stiles chanting beside him.

Things were slowly piecing back together for him and the sudden realization that he could very well die hit him hard right after sudden realization that _Stiles_ could die.

“You need to get out,” Derek heard himself say.  
  
“Wha--what?”

“Get _out_ , Stiles. You need to be safe.”

“I’m not leaving you Derek!” His voice was shrill.  
  
“Stiles!”  
  
“No! No! I don’t care about whatever stupid promise you made my dad years ago. We’re partners now and I’m not leaving you behind!”

The thing was, not that he would say it, or ever get the chance to, that he hadn’t been thinking about John or the promise he had made all those years ago. He had only been thinking about Stiles. And dead or not, how much it would kill him if anything happened to him. His very _soul_ would suffer.

“Stiles. Listen to me,” he tried to keep his voice level but the panic behind not knowing when the bomb could blow and the fact that he was dodging lazy pedestrians at 50 miles per hour was coming through, “You have a daughter, Stiles. You have people who rely on you. People who need you.”  
  
There was a terrible sound and it shot through Derek’s very core. A sob had wrenched itself out of the younger man that was now looking fearfully at Derek.

“ _I_ need you. Derek,” he gasped in another panicked breath, “I need you.”

He slowed the van, stopping it where he saw no people around.

He reached to hold Stiles’ jaw in his free hand. He knew that these last few moments were short, and he wanted to look into Stiles’ eyes one more time before he had to go.

“Stiles,” he said, eyes pleading and voice breaking, “I need you safe. Please.”

He shook his head, “God,” he sniffed, “God, Derek. I _love_ you.”  
  
The words felt like a punch to the gut.

How was life so unfair? He had learned how unfair it was as it claimed his loved ones like they were prizes to be won. But this? He didn’t even get his chance yet. They didn’t get _their_ chance yet. At that, he felt the warm drops of tears roll down his face and his chest begin to tighten.

The next thing he knew he was being gripped by the front of his uniform and being dragged into a desperate kiss.

“You can’t--” Stiles started, but Derek cut him off with a hand tucking a piece of estranged hair behind Stiles’ ear.

“You have to go. For Spencer.”

“Come back to me,” he demanded... _pleaded_.

And before Derek knew exactly what he was doing, he was taking one last look into Stiles’ wide eyes and shoving him out of the van before switching gears and speeding away.

  
  


Stiles just laid there in the middle of Sheep Meadow, shaking as tears fell from his eyes. He didn’t even realize the two sets of hands that hoisted him up and sat him on the edge of the ambulance--and damn, the city would be pissed for having vehicles on their grass. Once Jordan came into view though, he promptly broke. He didn’t care how unprofessional it was or how it looked to others. He openly sobbed into Jordan’s chest as the man held him close, rubbing up and down his back in calming, soothing motions as he let his own tears flow, too.

After refusing to go to the hospital, the Chief made him at least head to the station so they could keep an eye on him in case his symptoms of shock worsened. He refused to leave Jordan’s side and demanded he see Tara as soon as they walked in the doors. The three of them waited in the entrance area, watching people come and go. Officers and others stood around the room giving information, scribbling down things onto pads, taking orders.

Stiles’ main focus was on the tiling of the floor when the door opened and Spencer came running in. He immediately opened his arms for her to run into, and she did. He knelt down to greet her and held her so close to himself that he thought he’d never let go. He pet her hair and pressed kisses to the top of her head.

She looked around carefully before asking in a small voice, “Where’s Derek?”

The wind rushed out of Stiles, leaving him pale and shaky in less than a second. He only held her tighter.

“Daddy?” Asked her small voice from far away.

Stiles was angry. He couldn’t break down, now. Not after everything he had stayed solid for. Not when Spencer was here. He had to be strong. Strong for his baby. Derek had told him to be there for her. Derek said--

He felt Spencer being taken from his grasp and in a panic, he pulled her closer.

“Stiles,” Tara appeared in front of her, “it’s okay. It’s alright, baby. I’ve got her. I need you to get a hold on yourself. Can you do that? I got her. She’ll be right here with me. Okay? Is that okay, Stiles?”  
He could only nod as he gripped what he assumed was Jordan’s forearm, tightly. He couldn’t lose Derek. Not after...not after everything. He had been there for Heather and his Dad. Oh God. His Dad. He had promised his Dad. He felt another sob slip out of him. He had promised his Dad to look out for Derek. To keep him safe. To _protect_ him. Fuck.

No, no, no. He already missed him. His snarky attitude, his stupidly beautiful green eyes, his knack for always eating breakfast, his big warm rough hands. His smile. He just wanted another hug or another game night. He wanted one more time of waking up next to him, despite how platonic it may have been. He wanted one...more...laugh.

 

He was caught up in his own head when the door swung open and a mass of people following the Chief poured in.

The sound, however, had been enough for Stiles to look up and catch stupidly beautiful green eyes   staring back at him. He let got of Parish and sped forward into Derek’s solid and very alive arms. He refused to move for a full minute, not letting himself believe this was all real, that _Derek_ was real, until his voice was being called gently, coaxing him out of his trance. He looked up and was rewarded with a strong, passionate and chaste kiss. His knees went weak and he crumpled into Derek’s chest.

“Oh my God. Derek. Jesus. I thought...I thought you were gone and I know...”  
  
“Stiles--”

“I know I kind of...I realized there’s so much I want and I want it with you and I’ve known that...for a long time...”

Derek tried to interrupted him yet again with a gentle, “Stiles.”

“Me and Spencer. We talked. About it. About you. And. Oh my God. Thank God. I can’t...I couldn’t have...”  
  
“ _Stiles_.”

“Derek?”  
  
“...I love you too.”

He pulled back slightly, searching Derek’s eyes for a moment before letting out another sob and throwing himself into Derek. He reciprocated by wrapping his arms around Stiles’ back and nuzzling into his thick hair. He could have stayed like that forever, wrapped in his arms, alive and safe and happy.

Then Spencer made her way over to them, tugging at Derek who didn’t even hesitate in bending down and swooping her up into his arms, adding her to the hug as well.

The three of them stood there clutching at each other, holding on for dear life, allowing a few sniffles to sneak by and a few tears slip through. And yes, they were broken and small and wounded, but this was his family. And he wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.

  
  


Derek Hale never thought that he’d be an officer for the NYPD. Ever. He also never thought that he would ever be paired together with someone like Stiles Stilinski. He never actually thought that people like Stiles Stilinski even existed in real life. And he sure as hell never thought that he would fall in love with him.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I take kindly to constructive criticism and helpful hints.
> 
> Tumblr: midnightcas


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